Chapter 43: The Clown Was Me All Along

“The Child of the World, blessed by fate? Isn’t that just the so-called protagonist aura?”

Dorothy instantly understood—she now knew why her mother and the others had been so excited.

If witch ranks truly relate to fate, then the rank’s level directly determines the strength of the protagonist aura—this must be taken seriously, since no one would ever complain their protagonist aura is too strong.

But then again, every witch has a rank—so everyone’s a protagonist, just with varying degrees of major versus minor protagonist status; no wonder witch civilization has grown this powerful.

Euphelia’s next words quickly confirmed Dorothy’s guess.

“The All-Seeing Eye was left behind by the Divine King; our witch identity cards and rank determinations were all personally set by the Divine King. This is our covenant with the World Mother, and the proof of our status as Children of the World.”

“Through this system, witches and the witch world have become mutually beneficial and symbiotic: the witch world nurtures our witch clan, and once we grow, we return to the world in countless ways, strengthening it further; as the witch world grows stronger, it can then birth even more powerful witches.”

“The reason today’s new generation of witches grows stronger with each passing generation is because the witch world we live in is constantly evolving—only a robust enough mother can give birth to healthy offspring, and only a sufficiently powerful world can nurture a mighty race and civilization.”

“The level of a witch’s rank also reflects how much she has contributed to the world’s ascension. The World Mother is perfectly fair: the more you contribute, the more fate she rewards you with; the higher your fate, the greater your share of the benefits during the world’s growth.”

Thus, the higher a witch’s rank, the more favored she is by the World Mother—within the witch world’s boundaries, she receives comprehensive enhancements: in simple terms, your buffs stack to the maximum—your mana growth rate increases, your mana recovery rate improves, your spell power rises, your luck improves, and you’re more likely to encounter miracles...

“In short, if your fate is high enough—like that of the Witch Queen—you can literally have your every wish fulfilled. In fact, throughout history, every Witch Queen has been regarded within the witch world as the omniscient, omnipotent deity all witches strive toward.”

“Now you understand how precious fate is, Dorothy. Any opportunity to gain even a little more fate is invaluable—don’t waste it.”

At this, the Dragon Witch’s tone toward her daughter turned exasperated.

Other witches go to any lengths to climb ranks and increase their fate, but this lazy daughter of hers? She could ascend and refuses to—anyone who found out would deserve to be beaten.

“Uh...”

Not just others—even Dorothy herself now regretted it, wishing she could slap herself twice.

Damn, what the hell have I been doing all these years?

Thinking back, all she’d done on the Magic Web was duel after duel, buried in the Grand Library, studying magic tomes day and night; her mind was packed with knowledge, she’d even created her own complete set of spells, and everyone on the Magic Web called her the Master of the New Generation.

But because she hated going out, she’d never bothered to obtain many professional certification papers—she’d always thought those certificates were useless, a waste of time; having real knowledge mattered more than any paper.

But now...

Dorothy’s eyes lost all luster, dull as dead fish.

I didn’t just lose professional certifications—I lost achievements, rank points, fate! How much have I lost? More than a hundred million!

No, I need to take those exams—right away.

She gritted her teeth, thinking it wasn’t too late to mend the fence after the sheep were gone.

But at the same time, she felt wronged.

She couldn’t really be blamed for being lazy—no one had ever told her about fate before. If she’d known about it earlier, would she have ended up like this?

“So why wasn’t this ever openly announced? You never told me—I had no way of knowing! No one ever mentioned it! Is this kind of thing supposed to be secret?”

Dorothy muttered bitterly, her mind turning suspicious. She’d read plenty of books, yet none of the magic tomes mentioned fate at all—was someone suppressing this information on purpose?

But the Angel Witch beside her rolled her eyes and explained:

“Below the Grand Witch rank, fate is barely noticeable—it’s rarely detected. Even if someone feels their luck has suddenly improved, they’d just assume it’s temporary good fortune. Only after becoming a Grand Witch can one clearly perceive one’s own fate.”

“Therefore, only Grand Witches and above truly need to chase rank and increase fate. Witches below Grand Witch rank simply need to grow normally—blindly pursuing fate would disrupt their natural development, leaving them unsatisfied on both fronts.”

“Miss, you must understand: in this world, strength is the foundation of everything. Without strength, even if fate grants you a miracle, you won’t be able to seize it.”

“So information about fate is generally only passed among Grand Witches and above. Only a few exceptionally talented young witches are informed early—like me. Now do you understand why no one told you?”

Sophia’s golden eyes stared directly at Dorothy, making her squirm with guilt.

But Dorothy had no way to refute it.

Yes—why had she only just learned about fate now? Because she’d shut herself away, lost in her own world, hiding too well.

Her stepmother Anne was a Grand Witch—she must have known about fate. But Dorothy had never shown her abilities to Anne or any other family member; even Alice, her closest sister, didn’t know her older sister was a powerhouse.

Dorothy had once enjoyed the feeling of being incredibly strong while others remained unaware—she’d even planned to someday pull off one of those “pretend to be weak, then strike” plots from her past-life novels.

In fact, she’d already done it—hadn’t she just outsmarted Sophia, the Angel Tiger?

She’d secretly delighted in it for a long time.

But now...

Oh no—pretending to be weak too well really does make you look like a fool. The clown was me all along.

To hell with past-life novels—trying to show off ruined me.